Family Ties
by fantasylover53
Summary: <html><head></head>As the elder, he had a duty to protect and look after the younger- and he'd been damned to Hell if that natural order stopped because he couldn't face the brother he'd betrayed.</html>
1. Decisions

He wasn't exactly sure why he was even there. Why he was standing outside the mansion that belonged to the old meddling Xavier, watching one particular window.

Then again, Victor Creed wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Since Liberty Island, and his rather painful awakening at the bottom of a smashed boat, he'd been thinking. Thinking, and... feeling.

He hadn't bothered to rejoin Magneto during the Alkali Lake fiasco, but he'd been tempted to when he heard about Stryker. He hadn't even joined up to fight on Alcatraz, even though he knew that Magneto knew he was alive. Why?

Because Jimmy wouldn't have.

As a shadow crossed the window he was avidly staring at, he subconsciously clenched clawed fingers tighter around the motorcycles handles, wondering when it was that they switched roles. When had Jimmy become the one who was willing to fight, and when had he himself become the one who tried to avoid them?

Victor supposed it had all started with Kayla's "death." Not that Jimmy knew that of course, damned fool couldn't even remember his name. Or the wars. Hell, he couldn't remember _anything_.

Gritting fanged teeth together, he forced stiff leg muscles to work, swinging off his bike and pocketing the keys in his jacket pocket. Why was he doing this? The animal in him wanted Jimmy's blood- but the human side that only his brother knew even existed, knew it was because he was the elder brother. And as the elder brother, he had a duty to look after his baby brother.

It was the way it always had been, and the _**somewhat**_ human side knew that he'd be damned if that natural order was upset just because he was scared of facing the brother he'd betrayed in so many ways.

Walking through the wide open gates, the damned fools were so _trusting_, he paused before knocking on the front door.

Did he really want to do this?

_No._

Well, some newly awakened part of him hoped that if he **could** make Jimmy remember, then his brother would accept him. The other part, well, the animal just wanted Wolverine to remember how and why their endless feud had started- so it could have a legitimate excuse to kill him.

Forcing a barely contained growl slip back down into his throat, he narrowed his eyes and knocked.

The door opened to reveal the weather witch's shocked face. "Sabretooth..." To her credit, she regained her senses enough to talk properly. "What is _**your**_ business here?"

He growled slightly as his eyes spotted Jimmy- Logan, as he went by, staring at him from the stairs. Without breaking eye contact with his amnesiac brother, he spoke. "I'm here to find James Howlett."

* * *

><p>Right, this will probably, (if there are enough reviews or I get more inspiration for the series) become a series of one shots. Please review and tell me what you think!<p> 


	2. Dog Tags

The first time they were left in a room together, the brand-new plasma screen TV got smashed.

The second time, Storm's beloved collection of potted plants fell over, smashed, and dirt messed up the wiring of the replacement plasma.

The third time, they both took a dive into the swimming pool, and Victor had to somewhat drag his little brother up to the surface only to get punched in face for his efforts.

The fourth time, they were supervised- but that didn't stop two windows being smashed and one expensive desk being reduced to firewood. Storm, who had been supervising them, was responsible for both of them going to the infirmary with third degree burns.

Victor stormed after his brother up the stairs, growling under his breath as he had to jump the last remaining stairs to catch up. "Don't you even _**want**_ to know your own _**name**_?"

Logan stopped, snarling as he spun around, claws extending from his hands. "Not. From. You."

His already frayed temper snapping completely, Victor lunged forward, gripping his brothers wrists and shoving him against the wall, pinning him there. "Well whether you like it or not," he snarled back, "I'm the only one who _**knows**_... _James_."

Logan froze against him, and Victor noticed with some degree of satisfaction shock in his baby brother's eyes. With one hand still pinning Logan to the wall, he fished in his pocket with the other and hooked a claw around the object he was looking for. Drawing it out without any flourish, he dangled it in front of his brother's eyes. "This was yours," he hissed out, "from World War 2."

Logan struggled slightly, eyes fixed on the swaying object before his face, something vaguely like confusion in his eyes.

Victor, though, wasn't done.

Fisting the dog tags, he shoved them over his brother's neck, ignoring Logan's gasp of surprise, and- Wolverine's room being conveniently quite close, kicked open the door. Pushing his brother inside, he entered too, slamming the door behind him.

As Logan was staggering to his feet, one hand unconsciously clenched around the dog tags, Victor pounced. The unexpected weight sent Logan tumbling to the ground, and Victor, already knowing what moves he brother would use, pinned down his arms and legs.

Then, he proceeded to beat the living shit out of him.

What felt like minutes later, but was in fact over an hour, he stopped. Logan, by that time, was barely conscious, and Victor's emotions were frayed, though he'd kill himself before he admitted it.

As the vicious bruises faded without a trace before his eyes, Victor placed a slightly trembling hand on his brothers cheek. Stirring faintly, Logan's eyes opened a fraction, focusing on him.

"Jimmy..." the elder brother gasped out, though rage was the only thing colouring his voice, "Why did you forget?"

Logan opened his eyes fully, and Victor froze at the emotions running through them.

Uncertainty, confusion... recognition?

"Jimmy?" He whispered again, half wishing for Logan to deny ever knowing him at all once more.

Logan didn't speak verbally, but his eyes spoke thousands. He merely stared up at his captor with confusion racing around his mind, as the half-formed image of a teenaged boy teaching him how to hunt danced around his mind. A teenaged boy who had claw-like nails and sharp fangs for teeth.

Victor knew the look. The look that his brother would get as a teenager when he wasn't sure if he was doing something correctly when his brother tried to teach him something.

Without a word, he eased his brother up into a sitting position, then, after a minutes hesitation, placed an arm around his brother's shoulders, helping him up.

Then, whether from the beating Victor had given him or the shock of the memory, Logan fell unconscious. Left supporting his brother with one hand, Victor stared at his face.

_Damned fool had it coming for a while now_, he thought, trying to convince himself that he had had to beat his brother up for a reason as he gingerly lay James on his bed, _he deserved it._

Hesitating only a moment, he climbed on next to his brother, pulling Jimmy's head backwards so it rested against Victor's chest.

He knew he should take him down to the infirmary, but some selfish side of him wanted James to depend on him when he woke up.

He fell asleep with one hand curled around the old set of dog tags around his brother's neck.


	3. Memories

"_Jimmy, no, that's **not** how you do it. Here, see, the paws **first**."_

_A twelve year old James Howlett hung his head, watching out of the corner of his eye as Victor showed him how to skin a rabbit for the third time. He wordlessly took the knife and rabbit and tried once more when it was handed to him, but somehow instead ended up slicing his palm._

_Hissing in pain as the rabbit fell into the dirt, he stared at his hand as the blood welled up in the deep cut, only for the cut itself to heal a moment or two later. Victor, having sighed and picked up the now inedible rabbit, had taken back the knife. _

"_Victor..."_

"_Yeah James?" Victor responded, knowing without turning around that his brother would be staring at him._

"_Why do you keep me around? I mean..."_

_Freezing in place, Victor searched for words to respond with as James continued hesitantly talking. "...I'm **useless**."_

"_Stop right there." Whirling around, he grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders and stared into his baby brother's wide hazel-green eyes. "You're not useless. You're just learning. I had to learn too."_

"_But I can't cook properly, or skin a rabbit or **HUNT** with you..."_

"_That doesn't mean anything James. Just because you can't do those things now doesn't mean you can't learn. We'll hunt together one day, when you learn. Got that?" To make his words more effective, he gave his brother a slight shake. "Got that?"_

"_...Yes."_

**FLASH**

_Having successfully roasted and skinned his first rabbit, James was feeling pretty proud of himself. Sure, the meat was a little tough, but it was edible. Victor sure as hell wasn't going to complain, he was too proud of his brother to even want to comment on the meat. Besides, for a first meal, it wasn't half-bad._

"_So," he said, licking his fingers free of the juices as James aimlessly chucked another stick on the fire, "want to go hunting tomorrow little brother? Nothing too big... you're still a runt after all."_

_Jame's head jerked up, eyes shining in the firelight. "Really?"_

"_Yeah," Victor continued, finding his brother's obvious excitement infectious. "You know, maybe a rabbit?"_

"_Two?"_

_"Why two?"_

_"So you can have one as well silly."_

"_Yeah, right then. Two rabbits."_

_Smiling broadly, James wandered over to his brother and sat down on the snow covered ground and both watched the fire die down._

_When it did however, and all that were left were the ashes, James was curled up against Victor's chest, sound asleep. _

"_Night Jimmy," Victor whispered, placing his arms around his brother, and slipping into the world of dreams as well._

Victor woke with a start as Logan shifted against him.

Alertly, he observed his sleeping brother, anxious that he'd have to let go of him for some reason.

But, he couldn't have been more surprised.

Victor hurriedly let go of the dog tags as a still fast asleep brother rolled over, and just like he had in the distant memory Victor owned, curled up against his brother's chest. One hand, Victor noted, was clenched around the old dog tags tightly.

Throat suddenly constricted with emotion, Victor placed his arms around his brother, hugging him closer. "Night Jimmy," he whispered.


	4. Starting Point

Victor woke to someone's warm breath tickling his neck.

Shifting his head slightly, he opened his eyes and saw an asleep Logan- well, the back of an asleep Logan's head, which was currently resting in the crook of his own neck. Blinking in confusion as the events that had happened flew his mind, he stared down at his brother. When asleep... Logan looked **so** much like Jimmy...

As if hearing his thoughts, James stirred against him, hazel-green eyes opening blearily, only to see skin before his eyes. Alarmed, he tried to move away, only to have an arm trap his escape. "It's only me."

His mind still hazy, half-fogged with memories, his defence mechanism slipped into place. "Is that supposed to be a comfort?" he scoffed, half-struggling to move, yet not really trying. He felt drugged, his movements slow. And he felt... different. Safe? Why on earth did he feel safe? In all his fifteen years of memory- he couldn't yet count the new memories as correct ones, he'd **never** felt this safe. In fact, he'd never felt safe at all.

Victor chuckled, one hand resting on his brother's back to prevent movement. "I know that tone of voice, James."

Logan stiffened, something which Victor noted with some degree of interest. But, he moved his arm anyway, and slowly Logan scooted away from him, sitting up on the other side and studying the window. Victor knew well enough that it was only a disguise. "You... weren't lying."

"I don't lie as often as you think," the elder responded slowly, sensing- as he had always been able to do- Logan's confused state. "Or know."

His younger brother looked at him over his shoulder, hazel-green eyes studying him intently, and for a single moment Victor could only think that he looked just like a teenager again. "I don't know how often you lie," he said after a moment's silence, "but..."

"But what, Runt?"

Hazel-green eyes met ice blue, and a silent stare off happened before Logan looked away. "How old am I?"

The question was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome for Victor, and the elder sat up slowly, mulling over how to break the knowledge of their own age to a (technically) complete amnesiac stranger. "You were born on June the fifth, 1835. You're 170, 171 this year."

Logan tensed, and the change in his scent didn't go unnoticed. "What's my name?" This time, the question was barely a whisper, and Victor wondered for a moment if Logan was **_really_** wanted to know his name- who he was, anything about him in generally.

_Course he would, he just asked, didn't he? But Jimmy would be like that... _

Moving forward so he could touch his brother's shoulder with one hand, Victor did so, deciding on breaking it to him in the gentlest, yet bluntest way possible. "James Logan Howlett... but," he swallowed, wondering if he should add it, "but I... call you Jimmy."

Logan _**almost **_looked round when he said Jimmy, but froze at the last second, staring at some point between the wall and Victor's head. A silence fell, before Logan slowly stood up. "James Logan Howlett."

He walked off, mumbling his name under his breath, one hand clutching the dog tags round his neck tightly, as if he were afraid that if he let go he would forget everything again. He had every reason to believe such a thing- yet Victor wouldn't let it happen.

Victor couldn't help but smile as he walked out of the room, pausing only to stare at his brother's retreating back half-way down the hall before following a reasonable distance away to set at ease his brother.

So maybe he wasn't _**quite**_ ready to be called Jimmy _**just**_ yet, but it was definitely a starting point.


	5. Nightmare

Whimpers woke Victor in the middle of the night.

Rolling over in bed, he stared aimlessly at the door for a minute, before firmly whipping the blankets off him and planting his feet on the floor. _Jimmy..._

Instincts kicking in, he stood up and weaved around the photos on the floor that he'd planned to show his brother when he remembered enough, opened the door and walked through it into the dark, silent hallway. Well, almost silent.

Victor's room was half-way down the hall from his brothers, and with relative quiet, he padded down the carpeted corridor, stopping outside the door to James's bedroom. His whimpers were louder here.

Pushing open the door, he entered and quietly shut it behind him, staring at his brother's tossing and turning form in the bed. Even from a distance it was clear to see that Jimmy was sweating, and the pillowcase was already suffering from three rips that hadn't been there earlier.

"James," he murmured, walking forward slowly, "James."

Jimmy groaned in his sleep, rolled over, but did not wake.

Growing impatient, yet some distant part of him understanding- he'd heard his little brother cry his way through nightmares for decades- Victor stalked forward, grabbing Jimmy by his shoulders and pinning him on his back.

"_**Logan**_," he hissed, "_wake up_."

Logan reacted.

Within half a second, Victor was lying sprawled across the mat, head impacting hard enough on the dresser to nearly make it fall over. Logan, for his part, lost in the nightmare plaguing him, was sitting up in bed, eyes dilated into slits with claws extended.

Groaning, Victor hauled himself to his feet, casting the bedroom door a wary glance, but no students or teachers came rushing through to see what the commotion was about. Looking back at his brother, he risked the chance.

Pouncing on him, he dug his nails into James's shoulders, pushing him down and holding him there as he thrashed in his sleep. "I know that this is going to sound strange Runt," he hissed into his brother's ear, "but this is the _one time_ I _don't_ feel like fighting you!"

A slight knock at the door caught his attention and Victor hissed a quiet "come in" to whoever was on the other side. The door was pushed open, and Storm, clad in a dressing gown, entered. "What's going on?" Her eyes travelled to Logan growling and whimpering in his sleep, and her expression changed.

"He's havin' a nightmare, what does it look like?" Victor growled, still pinning his brother down.

Storm raised an eyebrow as she gazed at the elder feral. "I can see that," she said calmly after a moment, "but your tactic isn't working well is it?"

Victor growled at her. "It works," he insisted, "I've done this before."

Storm's eyes began glowing faintly white. "Maybe you have," she continued dispassionately, "but I know a better way to calm him down and it **doesn't** involve **you** being in this room." She pointedly looked towards the door then back at him. "If you'd kindly leave."

Victor, growling, got off his brother and stalked towards her. "Listen frail-"

A loud clap of thunder sounded above the house, and Ororo's eyes turned completely white. "**Out**."

"You can't make me- and besides, he's **my** brother! How-"

"Mr Creed," Ororo said venomously, "as Headmistress of this school, I have every right to make you leave- and for the record, if you must know, Logan and I have been together for a while now and I think I _**know**_ how to deal with him. Is. That. Clear."

Victor stilled at her words, but with immense difficultly pushed the animal down enough for a civilised response. "Fine," he said curtly, turning to send a look towards his brother, "I'll leave."

As he closed the door behind him, he leaned against the wall, listening in to what Ororo was doing.

Hearing her get into his brother's bed, her quiet words loud as day- as well as his brother's sleepy voice responding as he woke from his nightmare, Victor fumed.

**That was his job!**

Growling softly under his breath, he marched back to his room and slammed the door behind him.

_Then why did you never help him before?_

Pushing the condescending thought to the back of his mind, he growled, and got back into bed.


	6. Square One

Victor walked into Storm's office that morning with the sole intention of making the frail understand what was his job and what was hers. Unluckily for him, James was in there, half-wrapped around her and both broke apart with a gasp as he entered.

"Victor-" James began, only to be cut off with a wave of Victor's hand.

Logan, who had been eerily easy-going of Victor since the moment he'd been told his name, fell silent. Ororo for her part, straightened her skirt and stared dispassionately at the older feral. "Yes?"

Victor shot his brother a look, but Logan just hovered in the middle of them, looking torn between supporting his brother and supporting his lover. "I gotta have a word with ya about something. Alone."

Storm raised an eyebrow, but nodded to Logan, who walked outside, closing the door behind him. "You wanted something?"

"Yeah," Victor growled out, stepping forward, "I did. Last night, when Jimmy's was havin' one of his nightmares- it's my job to handle those."

"Really? You didn't seem to be doing much of a good job at waking him up."

"Listen frail, he's my brother and-"

"-and my lover. I don't see how any of this relates to your "rightful" big brother jobs. Logan told me, you know. Told me about the dreams he had and _**funnily enough **_not in _**any**_ of them when he was having a nightmare did you stop and _**help**_ him."

Silence reigned in the room, before Victor growled and raised his hand. His claws made four identical cuts on her cheek and with another growl as she refused to bow down, he raised his hand again.

Only to be stopped.

Jimmy stood next him, eyes blazing the colour of golden fire as his hand gripped Victor's, halting any progress. His own claws were resting just underneath Victor's throat, and with the low warning growl of the Wolverine, the middle one pushed forward enough to draw blood.

They were frozen in that position for a moment in time- Ororo clutching her cheek, Victor with his hand raised to strike and Logan his hand preventing any movement of Victor's hand. In that moment, Victor was struck by the similarity the scene had to that time in Lagos when his brother had walked away.

Ororo removed her hand slowly, regaining her composure.

Without a word, she took a step forward, her hands finding Logan's shoulders, gently prying his clenched hand away from Victor's arm. As the Wolverine- who had taken over Logan with the first scent of it's mates blood, sniffed her, and she assured it she was not harmed, Victor slipped out the room, shaking with anger.

As the animal raged within, demanding blood be spilt, the suddenly very human side of Victor cried tears of regret.

He and his brother were back to square one.


End file.
